


Hell Did Freeze

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone  (The 1st 100) [49]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6547840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya recalls the frozen Hell of his childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Did Freeze

The cellar was cold and damp, and after two and a bit days Napoleon and Illya had had more than enough of being locked up in it. They'd been taken unawares while heading out for a double date and Napoleon wasn't looking forward to facing the girls they had unexpectedly stood up. It had taken him two months to get a date with Michaela and she'd only agreed if he provided a date for her friend.

The agents had been divested of their clothes and equipment but had, thankfully, been supplied with coveralls. Over the years the pair had been stripped naked more times than they cared to recall. During the two days they had been trapped, both men had scoured the small cellar thoroughly for any means of escape. Unfortunately, there was only one door, and there were no windows or drains either. The only light came through barred aperture at the top of the door. Twice a day food and water was brought in by two guards who ordered them to stand well away from the door, and remain silent. There was no indication whatsoever as to who had taken them, or why.

The fourth time the door opened, Napoleon risked speaking. He asked if there was a possibility of ever leaving the cellar.

"Maybe when hell freezes over," was his only reply.

After the door closed, Napoleon picked up what had been left.

"It looks like sandwiches again," he told Illya. "Do you want the cheese, or the, erm, cheese?"

The question was met with a distracted silence.

"Illya? Do you want this? Illya?"

"When hell freezes over," Kuryakin echoed the guard's words.

"They aren't that bad, and I've seen you eat worse,"

Illya finally made eye contact with his partner. "What?"

"Sandwich?"

The Russian took the food and sat down. A minute or so later, Napoleon realised he hadn't actually started eating.

"Okay, Tovarisch, what gives?" he prompted. "What is it about the words 'when hell freezes over'?"

Illya said nothing for a while, but Solo simply waited.

"I spent a lot of my childhood in hell," Illya said eventually. "Half of the time it was, indeed, frozen. Russian winters are harsh, and when you're a skinny child with barely any winter clothing and very little food, they are even harsher. My babushka was killed by such a winter because she gave her food to us children and her shawls to my sisters. After my family were taken by the Nazis, I was placed in a state orphanage. I got a little more to eat, but heat was an expensive luxury. For me, hell has already been frozen over, therefore I'm leaving this cellar."

"That's a wonderful sentiment, Illya, but short of rushing the guards and risking being shot, there isn't much we can do."

"Then that's what we do," Illya told him, with a steely resolve.

Napoleon studied the expression on his partner's face and knew there would be no talking him round. Though, when he really thought about it, he was too was tired of waiting for answers. It was better to die trying to escape, than to await fate's arrival. As they'd already had two visits that day, they would have to wait until the next day to make their attempt.

The next time the guards arrived, the two agents did as instructed and stood away from the door. The guard with the gun entered first, followed by the one bearing the tray. As he bent to put his load on the floor, Illya dived towards him. His attack caused enough of a distraction for Napoleon to take on the armed man.

It took very little time for Solo and Kuryakin to subdue the guards and make their escape, and when they emerged from the building, they were very surprised to find they were in downtown Manhattan.

Returning to headquarters, the two men learned that people had been searching for them since they disappeared, but there were absolutely no clues, and all attempts to trace their communicators had failed. A team was despatched to search the building in which the agents had been held, but it yielded no results; even the two guards had gone. Whoever had taken Napoleon and Illya was a complete mystery, and looked likely to remain so.


End file.
